"No, those are the tunes you play for the Flower Girl," she said, hanging her head. "I do not want you to play them for me."
"I did not play any tunes for the Flower Girl," he said, "they were all for you."
"But you looked at her all the time," said the now humble little Shepherdess.
"I was thinking of you," he replied. "Let us sit on the end of the mantel and I will play to you. What would you like to hear?"
"Play something sad," said the little Shepherdess, for, like all girls, she wanted to cry when she was happiest.
"There," said the Cat, curling herself up for a nap, "I am glad that is settled. She never would have given in if he had not looked at the Flower Girl. These girls are queer creatures," she said, closing her eyes.
HOW THE BUTTERCUP GREW YELLOW
